


Twenty-Five Post-Its to Christmas

by TeamHPForever



Series: Twenty-Five [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Nico celebrate the one-year anniversary of when they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Five Post-Its to Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a year since 25 Messages. Will and Nico are now roommates at college.

**December 1**

Nico wakes up to a Post-it note stuck over the numbers on his clock. He tugs it off without bothering to decipher the words—Will may not be a doctor yet but he’s got the chicken-scratch handwriting down—and squints at the time. Five minutes until his alarm goes off.

He blinks his eyes to clear them and looks at the note: _One year._

Nico drops the note off to the side with a smile. One year since Will had anonymously sent him that first message on Tumblr. With all that has happened, it feels more like a decade. Meeting in person, their first date, their first kiss, dual acceptances to CUNY, deciding to move in together. Sometimes Nico worries that he'll wake up to find that the last year has all been a dream.

The alarm clicks into action, blaring with the sound of electric guitars. Nico listens for a few seconds and then hits the button.

 

**December 2**

Will is still in bed when Nico rolls out at six-thirty in the morning. He bites his lip to keep from cursing as his toe finds his bedpost in the dark. Eight a.m. classes are the devil.

When he emerges from the shower, Will is up and gone. Nico shakes his head. Even after three months of living together, he still doesn’t understand how his boyfriend can be such a morning person.

The whole room smells like coffee. Nico takes a deep breath, feeling more awake already, like he can derive caffeine from the air.

There’s a blue Post-it stuck to the Keurig.

_Good morning, angel. Here is your daily dose of legal stimulants._

Nico rolls his eyes as he picks up the cup. He reaches for the creamer and then takes a sip instead. It’s already perfect.

 

**December 3**

Will and Nico get ready for class in tandem the next morning. Will doesn’t say anything about the notes and Nico isn’t quite sure how to bring it up. He has the first two tucked away in a spare binder.

His clock and coffee pot are free of today’s note. So are the bathroom and all the rest of his stuff.

Will kisses him goodbye with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Nico locks their dorm room door behind him and sticks his hand into his coat pocket. The rustle of paper meets his fingers.

The note is scrawled across half a sheet of notebook paper.

_Around this time last year I told you that I hope you find people that love you for who you are. I hope this year you know that you have._

Nico stares at the note for a minute. He grabs the red marker hanging off their whiteboard and writes neatly, _I know._

He hopes it doesn’t creep anyone out as he walks away.

 

**December 4**

Nico wakes up in a rush of panic. The last day of classes and he overslept. How does that even happen?

There’s a grey Post-it stuck to the front of his backpack. He shoves it into his pocket as he runs out the door.

Only when he’s made it safely to class and the professor isn’t even there yet does he relax enough to pull it out of his pocket and squint at the letters until they form themselves into coherent words.

_Happy last day of classes! We should do something tonight to celebrate. I’m thinking dinner and a movie. By “dinner,” I mean “order a pizza” and by “movie,” I mean whatever’s on Netflix._

Nico glances at the door to make sure the professor isn’t walking through it before he pulls out his phone. _Pizza and Netflix sounds great. Good luck with your classes._

 

**December 5**

Nico wakes up with a Post-it stuck to his forehead. He groans and tugs it off. “Will, finals are next week,” he grumbles. “I value sleep while I can.”

“Just read it,” Will replies and Nico knows without looking that he’s standing directly next to his bed, probably grinning with anticipation.

“I hate you,” Nico replies without heat and opens his eyes.

_Do you want to build a snowman?_

“It doesn’t have to be a snowman,” Will sings.

Nico drops the note onto his side table and shoves his head beneath the blankets. “I never should have let you watch Frozen.”

“Does that mean no snowman?”

Nico smiles beneath the blankets. “Be a good boyfriend and ask me in an hour.”

“Done.” There’s a soft metallic sound of bedsprings as Will sits down, followed by the soft ping of his laptop turning on. Nico closes his eyes and drifts back off.

 

**December 6**

Nico crashes through the door at the end of a long day at the library. Trans-Siberian Orchestra softly plays from Will’s laptop on his desk. Will himself is moving around the room, more spinning than anything.

A pink note stuck to the wall catches Nico’s attention as he strips out of his multiple layers.

_Dance with me._

“I’m not sure TSO was really meant to be danced to,” Nico says.

“Not with that attitude.” Will grabs his hand and pulls him in. Nico laughs as he’s pushed out into a spin. Around them, the music plays on.

 

**December 7**

There’s a piece of notebook paper taped to the bathroom door.

_Good luck with your finals today! I have an eight a.m. (I know, eight on Monday, it sucks) otherwise I’d give you a good luck kiss. It’s a cold one outside, don’t forget your scarf._

Nico frowns, reading it several times to make sure he’s getting it right. “I don’t have a scarf.”

He checks around his bed and on his desk but there’s nothing. It isn’t until he goes to grab his coat that he finds the blue-gray scarf wrapped around the hanger. He wraps it around his neck, the soft material warm against his skin.

He’s even more thankful when he steps outside and a cold wind blasts him in the face.

 

**December 8**

Nico takes advantage of a day without finals to go Christmas shopping. His dad’s present can wait until he’s home but he wants to give Will his before they go home for break.

He wanders from store to store, rejecting each new idea as it comes.

Clothes? Too hard to choose without knowing they’ll fit.

Gift card? Not personal enough.

Nico sighs and leans his forehead against a shelf. It shouldn’t be this hard for him to think of something to buy his boyfriend. It’s just a gift.

“You look like you need some help,” a girl says kindly.

Nico looks up. Her uniform says her name is Silena. “That obvious?”

“Only a little,” she whispers with a smile. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“A gift for my boyfriend.” His tongue trips over the word, still not used to saying it out loud, to being so casual.

Silena doesn’t miss a beat. “What does he like?”

“Well, he’s pre-med. Wants to be a doctor. Plays the violin, even sometimes when I’m trying to sleep. He’s captain of the archery club even though he’s only a freshman. Huge fucking nerd.” Nico realizes he’s starting to ramble and cuts himself off.

“All right.” Silena starts to walk and Nico follows along next to her. “A medical book? Something for his violin? Arrows? Wrist guards? The DVD set of his favorite show?”

“He's very particular about his arrows--” Nico says.

_Cashiers needed immediately,_ blares overhead.

“Damn it, that’s me.” Silena gives him an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay.” Nico waves her off. “Those are all great ideas. Thanks.”

“Good luck!” She walks quickly off towards the front of the store and Nico sighs as he turns around. Something for his violin sounds like a great idea.

In the end, he manages to find a pair of books containing sheet music and another one that’s blank. He’s checking out when he sees slim packages of Mythomagic cards hanging along the side. He grabs two and drops them next to the books.

Will is sitting on his bed when Nico walks through the door. A pen is clutched between his teeth, the pad of Post-its in his lap. His eyes light up at the sight of the plastic bag. “What did you get?” he asks.

“It’s a surprise,” Nico says, tucking the bag away beneath his bed. “Don’t you dare peek.”

“It wounds me that you would even suggest such a thing.” Will bends down over the Post-its and scrawls out a message. When he’s done, he slips off the bed and sticks it to Nico’s forehead.

“I know you.” Nico rips it off and looks down.

_Tell me._

He snatches the Post-its from Will and takes a marker from his own desk. Writes, _You know what presents are, right? Not how it works._ Will just grins as Nico sticks the note to his arm.

“Fine.” Will pouts as he sits back down on his bed. “But you have to leave those presents here some time.”

“Yes, you are the grand master of thievery,” Nico says, deadpan. “Don’t you have a final in half an hour?”

Will glances at the clock. “Shit!” He jumps off the bed, kisses Nico quickly on the cheek, and bolts out the door.

 

**December 9**

Nico wakes to a stack of notes stuck to the front of his desk. The one on top reads, _So far I have ruled out:_

_1\. New arm guards_

_2\. A copy of the DSM-V as that is a brick and you did not look like your bag was heavy_

_3\. Complete Works of Shakespeare_

_4\. A lifetime supply of chocolate_

_5\. The Hope Diamond_

_6\. Supplies for violin maintenance_

_7\. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig_

_8\. A miniature version of Godric Gryffindor’s sword_

_9\. The entire Secret Wars run of Marvel comics_

_10\. A Batmobile_

Nico tosses the stack aside and rolls his eyes. He clambers out of bed and heads straight to his backpack, where he’s been hiding the presents since after Will went to bed. It doesn’t seem to have been disturbed, but there’s a neon green Post-it stuck to the zipper. _I didn’t peek._

 

**December 10**

While Will’s off having an oddly timed party with the archery club and Nico’s brainstorming (read: procrastinating) his final essay, he wraps the presents. After all, not even Will would be able to open them all and then rewrap them perfectly, right?

Just in case, Nico adds a whole extra layer of tape.

As he gets ready to wrap the last book, he spots Will’s pad of Post-its on the floor. He rips off a yellow one and writes, _For waking hours only_ , sticking that on the cover of the book.

A few hours later, Nico steps out of the shower and spots a splash of pink across the front of his dark green wrapping paper. _Nice touch with the tape._

“Although,” Will says behind him, lounging across his bed with his violin in his lap, “I find duct tape to be more effective.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you patience is a virtue?” Nico asks as he picks up his laptop. He needs to give his paper a final read before he sends it.

“Of course not.” Will lazily draws the bow over the strings. “Where do you think I got it from?”

 

**December 11**

The lights are off when Nico steps through the door after his last final. His brain feels like mush and his only thought is to fall into bed and sleep for several days.

Something knocks against his hand as the door closes again. He flicks on the light. His black button-up and slacks are draped over a hanger on the door knob. A yellow Post-it reads, _Put this on._

“Will?” he calls to the relative darkness of the rest of the room.

His boyfriend steps into view, dressed in a scarlet button-up and dark slacks. “You don’t have to,” he says. “I just thought it would be fun to do something fancy on our last night.”

“We’re not going out, are we?” The idea makes Nico want to fall asleep right here in the hall.

Will shakes his head. “Not quite.”

Nico picks up the hanger. Will grins and walks out of sight again.

As Nico steps into their room, Will flicks on a desk lamp. Everything lights up with a soft glow, outlined by candles placed along both wardrobes and the bed-posts. One of them has a green Post-it: _I promise not to let anything catch on fire._

There’s a tote in the middle of the floor, covered with a gold table cloth. Two paper plates rest on either side with a candle in the middle. On Nico’s side is a present wrapped in blue.

Will comes up behind him while he’s still taking it all in, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist. “You look wonderful.”

The candles, the fancy clothes, the gift, the moment locked in time. It’s more than he ever could have expected. Nico can’t get his thoughts to untangle enough to put them into words so he just says, “Thank you” and hopes Will understands the rest.

Dinner is Chinese, both of their favorites, sitting on the floor while the candles flicker around them. Christmas music plays softly in the background.

Nico finds himself wishing that the dorms didn’t require them to go home over Christmas break.

When they’re done, Nico fetches Will’s gifts from his backpack and they swap, ripping through the paper together. Nico pulls open the box underneath and his heart freezes for a moment.

The book catches his eye first. The cover is silver with “Us” written in gold. It’s bound with gold yarn. A yellow Post-it reads, _I know it hasn’t been a year, but it feels like it. I’m glad it was you I messaged, angel._

Nico opens the cover with shaking fingers. Will watches him intently, no longer paying attention to his own present only half unwrapped in his lap.

Inside are all the messages Will had sent him for the Secret Santa, printed out and pasted out on scrapbook pages. December third’s is accompanied by his picture of his laptop in the backyard, December seventh’s his pancakes. December tenth, _dance like nobody’s watching_ , includes a list of song suggestions. December fourteenth is all the best one-liners from the Whose Line clips. A miniature candy cane is taped to December eighteenth.

“I thought about taping snow to a couple,” Will says softly. “But I didn’t think that would go well.”

Nico’s laugh comes out sounding strangely choked. He flips through the rest of the messages quickly, Will’s countdown to Christmas Day ending with their messages introducing themselves.

After that, there are a few pages containing all the pictures they’ve taken of the two of themselves since they met. There aren’t many—Nico isn’t a big fan of pictures—but there are a couple blank pages at the end and Nico hopes there will be plenty of time to add more.

“Thank you,” Nico says, looking up at last.

Will has a pink Post-it stuck to his forehead. _I love you._

“I love you too,” Nico whispers and walks around the table for a kiss.

 

**December 12**

It takes Nico a minute to realize he’s in the wrong bed and it’s empty. Will’s clock tells him it’s just after six.

That’s right. Will had a flight leaving at seven. Nico groans and shoves his face into the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of Will’s conditioner. Since he’s awake, he should get packing.

It’s not like he has anyone to answer to but himself if he leaves late. He closes his eyes and falls back asleep.

Nico’s significantly more awake when he crawls out of bed two hours later. The book lays on his bed, the blanket folded beneath it. Nico picks it up and shakes it open. In all the emotions of last night, he’d forgotten to take a closer look at it.

It’s edged in black but the rest of the blanket is a giant Mythomagic card. Hades.

Nico smiles softly as he folds it back up, wraps it around the book, and tucks both carefully away in his duffel. A part of him wonders if maybe Will forgot a note for today in the rush of leaving.

It’s understandable. He tries not to feel disappointed.

Until he reaches into the cup for his car keys and feels paper instead.

_I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Have a great break, angel, and drive safe. I’ll talk to you when you get there._

Nico smiles and tucks the Post-it into his pocket. This time when he reaches into the cup, he finds only his keys.

 

**December 13**

Nico groans as he rolls out of bed. Between the crash from finals and driving all day yesterday, he feels like death.

The picture on his side table catches his attention—him and Bianca. He waits for the inevitable crushing weight of grief but it doesn’t come. He misses her, of course. He always will. But he doesn’t feel like his heart is trying to claw its way through his ribs.

Nico’s phone catches his attention, blinking with a message.

_Check your blog._

Nico digs his laptop from the depths of his backpack and turns it on. He ignores his empty queue and clicks over to his messages. It’s anonymous but there is no doubt who it’s from.

_I thought this might be fun for old time’s sake, even if these messages are more likely to be sucked into a black hole. How are you doing?_

Nico thinks about sending one back but reaches for his phone instead. _I’m okay, really._ He stares at the picture for a few minutes. _I think I’ll go see her grave today._

The response only takes a minute. _You don’t have to. I know it doesn’t feel like her to you._

Nico sighs. Will is right. His dad has always gotten some comfort from visiting Bianca’s grave, like he can still talk to her, but Nico doesn’t see his sister in that cold gray stone. Her name is there, her birthday, her deathday, _Beloved Sister and Daughter_ , like her entire being can be summed up in those simple words.

A tear runs down Nico’s cheek as he types back, _I have another idea._

Nico opens his door and listens but the house is silent. His dad’s either already gone down to the cemetery or work has called him in. He steps across the hall and pushes open the door on the other side.

Bianca’s room feels cold and abandoned. Her stuff has been tidied up but for the most part it’s exactly where she left it, like any moment now she’s going to walk back through the door and flop down on the bed. A copy of _Dragon Slippers_ sits on her side table, a slip of paper tucked inside as a bookmark. Mythomagic figures line the shelves, covered in a fine layer of dust now.

Nico’s phone buzzes but he ignores it, crossing the room and sitting on the floor.

“Hey, Bianca,” he whispers. “I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are, but I figure if you can then this is as good a place as any.”

The room is silent around him. His tears join the specks of glitter on the carpet.

“I’m in college now. CUNY. You’d love it there, I think. You’d have the whole place wired by the time I got there and then you could show me the ropes. All the best places to hang out and the ones to avoid.

“I have a boyfriend too. Will. I think you’d approve. He’s kind and smart and a little annoying. And he loves me.”

The words choke in Nico’s throat and he pushes his face into his knees. His hand reaches for his phone and it takes a few seconds for him to blink away the tears enough to see the screen. A single question mark is Will’s reply. Nico hits the call button.

“Nico?”

“I’m here.” Nico’s voice shakes as he pushes away the tears with the palm of his hand. “I’m in her room.”

“Is this the first time…?”

“Yes.” Nico pushes his face into his knees again. “I wish you were here.”

“I do too.” Will sighs softly.

Nico takes deep breaths until he calms down again. “I told her about you. I think she’d like you. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Sure.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Nico puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the bed. “Go ahead.”

“Hi, Bianca. I’m Nico’s boyfriend. I’m sure he’s told you terrible things about me and I can say for certain that they’re all true.” He pauses, sighing again. “I wish I could’ve met you. I love your brother very much and I’m sure the two of us could’ve picked on him together.”

“You would have,” Nico says, smiling for the first time.

There’s muffled screaming on the other end of the line. “That’s my brother. I sympathize with you, Bianca, I really do. Sorry, guys, I have to go.”

Nico picks up the phone and balances it on his knees. “That’s okay. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Bye.”

“Bye.” There’s a click and then silence. Nico sits on the floor for a few minutes, eyes closed, until he hears the door open downstairs. Only then does he pull himself up off the carpet and step out of Bianca’s room.

 

**December 14**

There’s another anonymous message waiting for Nico when he wakes up.

_It’s so nice to be able to sit outside in the sun without wearing six different layers. Your forecast says that it’s only a few degrees cooler and there’s no chance of rain. You should try it._

Nico smiles as he picks up the phone and texts, _Is this your way of saying I should get out more?_

While he waits for a reply, he makes his way downstairs and grabs a bagel from the package. The patio furniture rests outside, free from the thick layer of snow that they’ve had up north. Nico pushes open the sliding door and steps outside.

His phone vibrates just as he’s sitting down, like maybe Will knows exactly where he is. _I wouldn’t put it like that._

Nico takes a selfie, the rich blue sky in the background, and sends it captioned, _As you wished._

 

**December 15**

Nico stumbles through the door, hands laden with plastic bags. It takes him a few minutes to tuck all the groceries away before he heads to his room.

He’d talked to Will that morning but he hadn’t gotten a real message yet.

His laptop snarls to life and takes a minute to load up Tumblr. Sure enough, there’s an anon.

_Crown for Christmas on Hallmark at five._

Nico glances at the clock. That’s only ten minutes from now. He grabs his phone and hits call. “Is that a tip or an invitation?”

There’s a loud crinkle of a chip bag in the background before Will replies, “Watch with me.”

“Hallmark. Really?”

“You know you love them.”

Nico grabs his laptop and makes his way to the living room. “Those movies are so cheesy.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine.” Nico flops down on the couch and reaches for the remote. “But you have to promise to watch Die Hard with me before Christmas.”

“That’s not a Christmas movie.”

Nico shushes him as he flips the channels. “Not with that attitude it’s not.”

“Fine.” The chip bag rustles again. “You’ve got a deal, di Angelo.”

 

**December 16**

Nico is in the middle of watching Mario Lopez get kidnapped and brought home for Christmas when the day’s message arrives.

_I went to volunteer at the hospital this morning and the head nurse gave me a lab coat with my name embroidered on it. Do you think this makes me a real doctor?_

Nico laughs and reaches for his phone. I _’m not an expert but I think you need a piece of paper with some fancy writing on it for that._

_Do you know where I might find one of those?_

He looks up in time to see Mario get down on one knee and pull out a ring. Nico thinks that might be a bit overkill on the whole thing. _I believe the price is seven years of your life and a fraction of your soul._

_Hardcore._

_What an awesome lab coat, though, Dr. Solace._

 

**December 17**

Nico rolls out of bed the next morning, ready to go out and get his Christmas shopping done once and for all.

That is until he looks out the window to find sheets of freezing rain. He glares at them for a minute and crawls back into bed. He still has a week until Christmas.

When he pulls his laptop onto the bed a couple hours later, he has nine messages. All anon. Each one spelling out the lyrics to “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”

Nico clicks over to Will’s blog and sends an anon: _You’re in luck. We’re having a special today on Nico di Angelos. Only one kiss._

Nico’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth when his phone buzzes. “I’m not sure how well that payment method works over the phone,” Will says, instead of hello. “Will you take an I.O.U?”

Nico holds the phone away while he rinses out his mouth. “Yeah, that’ll work just fine.”

 

**December 18**

Nico sighs with relief as he tucks the plastic bag underneath his bed. Christmas shopping complete. He bought his dad a new clipboard and a desk organizer for work.

He’s seen his father’s desk. He needs it.

Will’s latest message is a Youtube link. The video is a title in white “Voice of an Angel” by Will Solace on a black background. The title disappears after a few seconds but nothing else happens.

Nico plugs in his headphones, flips the volume on, and puts the video back to the beginning.

A single violin plays. Nico closes his eyes and stretches out across his bed. The tune is slow, dark and wavering, but not mournful. Nico’s heart soars with the sound, each note vibrating in his ears. About a minute in, a second violin is layered over the first, thrumming like the beat of a heart. The two sounds twine together until the final note. It seems to stretch into infinity and then the video ends.

Nico hits replay and reaches for his phone. _What is this?_

_Do you like it?_

Nico reaches the entrance of the second violin once more and the song seems to surround him from all sides. _It’s beautiful._

The response is a picture message, the first page of the book of blank sheet music that Nico had given him. Written at the top is “Voice of an Angel, for Nico.”

It was for him.

Nico had thought as much, when he’d seen the title, but to see it written on the page like that was an entirely different experience. Will could have written anything, for anyone, but he’d written Nico into song form instead.

_It’s perfect,_ Nico texts back.

 

**December 19**

Today’s message is waiting for Nico the moment he wakes up. _My mom made homemade peach ice cream. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted it. I’d send you a whole carton but, alas, ice cream does not travel well._

Nico’s stomach growls at the thought and he pushes himself out of bed in search of breakfast. It’s not going to be peach ice cream but at least there’ll be something.

“You know it’s breakfast time, right?” Nico says when Will picks up the phone. “Most people don’t eat ice cream.”

“It has peaches and milk,” Will replies. “How is that not breakfast?”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.” Nico pulls out the carton of eggs. “I hope you know I’m incredibly jealous.”

“You should be.” Will laughs but the sound is strangely gargled through what is clearly a mouthful of ice cream.

 

**December 20**

Nico wakes up far too early in the morning to a text. _Might be MIA for a while. Baking pies._ Nico smiles and rolls over to go back to sleep.

Once he’s able to talk himself out of bed, he puts “Voice of an Angel” on repeat and settles down on the floor to wrap his father’s presents. The last note is hanging in the air for the third time as he sticks on the bows and sits back to admire his handiwork.

Nico hits pause on the song and heads downstairs. Overnight, the boxes of Christmas decorations have emerged from the basement. The fake tree is half assembled next to the fireplace. Four stockings hang from the mantle. Strings of garland and lights tangle together on the couch. His dad stands in the middle of it all, pulling out boxes of ornaments.

Nico stands awestruck for a minute. His phone buzzes and he tugs it from his pocket. _So many pies._

He types back a quick reply— _That’s okay. I’m helping my dad decorate the house._ He steps forward and picks up the lights without a word, winding a string around his arm to untangle it from the others.

By the time they wrap things up and collapse to the couch, it's well after dark. The mantle is decorated with ivy and snowman figurines. The tree stands in its place, covered with lights and garland and ornaments. Four presents rest beneath it.

“I meant to have everything finished before you came home,” Nico’s dad says.

“That’s okay.” Nico’s eyes settle on the two extra stockings. “It was fun. Hot chocolate?”

“Okay.”

Nico clambers off the couch. While the milk is heating up in the microwave, he grabs his laptop from his room. In the rush of decorating, he hadn’t thought to check for a message.

_I helped bake twelve pies today. I don’t think I’m meant to be Will the Piemaker. I hope you had a good time decorating for Christmas with your dad. I know what it means to you._

Nico smiles and drops his laptop off on the couch. He grabs the mugs of milk, mixes in the hot chocolate powder, and carries both back to the living room. Once his hands are free, he snaps some pictures of the tree and the mantle and sends them to Will, following up with two messages.

_I did._

_Promise me you won’t eat all those pies yourself._

 

**December 21**

Nico wakes to the sight of snowflakes drifting past his window. There’s already enough on the ground to cover all but the very tips of the grass. He makes his way downstairs and looks out the glass door onto the porch. The sky above is obscured by slate gray clouds. It’s probably not going to stop snowing anytime soon.

He makes his way to the kitchen and pulls out a skillet. He knows without looking out at the driveway that he’s home alone once again, but that’s no reason not to make pancakes.

While the pan heats up, he opens his laptop. Tumblr is already waiting.

_Roses are not always red_

_Violets are definitely not blue_

_One thing I know for sure_

_Is that I love you_

Nico smiles as the butter starts to sizzle behind him. He tries to organize his thoughts into an answering poem but he’s definitely not that clever. He settles for typing out _I love you too._

 

**December 22**

Nico’s been playing his PS4 for a lot longer than advised and certainly not with the recommended number of breaks when his phone buzzes. _Winter break is boring. Come here right now and entertain me._

_Go bake some more pies._

_That’s not exactly what I had in mind._

Nico laughs and glances at where his game is still paused. As long as he’s taking a break, he might as well check for today’s message. There’s two, but the first one turns out to be spam.

_It’s snowing, Nico. There is white stuff falling from the sky in Carolina. Did you send this to me? My dad just came home with three cases of water like he thinks the world is ending._

Nico reaches for his phone. _Your dad didn’t really do that, did he?_

The response is a picture of three cases of water bottles stacked on top of each other, followed by another picture out the window. The snow isn’t sticking to the ground but he can see the white flakes in the air. Nico sends him a shot of the patio, covered in two inches of powder.

 

**December 23**

_Happy Christmas Eve Eve, angel. Only one more day until I reveal my identity. What, my name is Will? WHO TOLD YOU?_

Nico rolls his eyes even as he’s laughing. He reaches for his phone and calls Will.

“Happy Christmas Eve Eve to you too,” he says.

“So you do like that.” There’s a mighty crash on Will’s end of the line. “Sorry, my mom’s getting everything around to cook Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

“Sounds dangerous.” The clang of metal doesn’t block out a string of curses in the background.

“I should…” Glass shatters. “Yeah, I’m going to go help. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Be careful.”

Will laughs as he hangs up. Nico puts his phone down and reaches for the remote, flipping through the channels until he finds Charlie Brown.

 

**December 24**

Nico rolls out of bed in time to see more snowflakes sticking to the window. His phone buzzes only a few minutes later.

_My cousin has a two-month old girl. She hasn’t stopped screaming since they arrived. Send help. And aspirin._

Nico flinches at the thought. _I’m so sorry._

At noon, the countdown starts.

_12\. My cousin’s daughter has been silenced. Wait, that sounds like I killed her. She’s fine. Sleeping. I sang twenty-two verses of “Old McDonald Had a Farm” and she went right down for a nap._

Nico laughs and fights off the song threatening to get stuck in his head with just the thought. He drags himself away from where he’s been watching the snow fall past the window and heads downstairs. His dad is home for once, French toast frying away on the stove.

“It’s almost ready,” his dad says.

Nico's just polishing off his second plate when he realizes the hour has rolled back around.

_11\. I just helped the kids build a snowman. It’s like two inches tall._

Nico laughs, glancing out the window at the healthy covering of snow on the ground, and goes to put his bowl in the sink.

The next couple hours are occupied by a last-minute run to the store for fresh milk, garlic powder, and a couple more sticks of butter. The roads are slick but nothing they haven’t experienced before up north. The native southerners don’t seem to agree.

_10\. I showed my aunt a picture of us. She won’t stop going on about how cute we are._

_9\. You are cute. Should’ve told you that the first time around, although that may have been creepy._

Nico’s reaching for his phone to send a reply when his dad calls from the kitchen. “Can you give me a hand?” He sighs and climbs off the couch instead. Christmas Eve dinner beckons.

The turkey is in the oven and everything else is sitting out waiting to be dealt with by the time Nico gets a minute’s break.

_8\. My dad stepped on the snowman by accident and now I’m hiding in my room. Do you have earplugs I could borrow?_

Nico snatches up his phone and wishes that he could escape long enough for a phone call. _Sorry, no earplugs._

_Damn. I’d better get back out there. Once more unto the breach…_

Nico tucks his phone away in his back pocket and heads back to the kitchen himself. His dad is peeling potatoes at the sink. Nico snatches up the bundles of carrots and sets them next to the cutting board.

By the time everything is done, Nico isn’t sure if he wants to eat it all or take a nap in it. The potatoes in particular look quite soft.

Things don’t seem so awkward this year, as he talks about college and Will and his new friends. His dad cautiously tells him about a woman he met at a flower shop—although apparently her mother isn’t too keen on the two of them. Nico waits for something like betrayal, like guilt, but it doesn’t come.

When they’re finished, they grab pieces of pie—pumpkin this year—and take them to the living room. Nico turns on the TV to find Rudolph. He sets the remote down and reaches for his phone.

_7/6. I was eating dinner, sorry. I think I’m too full to move. But not too full for pie._

_5\. The kids have all gone home. It seems really quiet._

Nico polishes off his pie, admiring the steady glow of the lights around them in the dark. His dad sets his half-finished piece aside and goes to start a fire.

_4\. Inspired by that earlier use of Shakespeare, I shall now repeat other good quotes. The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. He is more myself than I am. One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel. Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. No, I am your father._

Nico rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone, sending a few messages in quick succession. _Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? To thine own self be true. To be or not to be._

Will’s reply only takes a few seconds. _We should never have taken that Shakespeare class together. Or we should always take Shakespeare classes together. I’m not sure._

They continue to text back and forth for the rest of the evening, the last three messages arriving as the night winds down.

_3\. Do you think if I just left anyone would notice? I could be at your house by morning._

Nico thinks he would like that, the two of them on this couch with only the glow of the Christmas lights and the fire to see each other by. 

_2\. Twas the night before Christmas. Not a creature was stirring, except my mom who is about to make me help her clean up._

Nico's dad goes off to bed with a quiet “Good night.” He clicks off the TV and curls up deeper into the couch, eyes half-focused on the flickering light of the fire. For once, he feels content. 

_1\. It’s almost midnight! I was so nervous this time last year, I still don’t know why. I thought maybe you’d like my messages but you wouldn’t like me, I guess._

Nico remembers his own fears, about how he’d developed feelings for someone that he really knew nothing about. Despite all of that, he doesn’t think it could have gone any better.

_0\. Call me._

Nico glances around the empty living room, his dad long since gone to bed, and reaches for his phone.

“I still think I could be at your house by morning if I left now.” Will’s voice is soft and low.

“I don’t think your family would be very happy if you disappeared in the middle of the night,” Nico says, fingers tugging at a loose thread on a pillow. A part of him wishes Will was serious, that he really could wake up to a third car in the driveway and a boyfriend in his bed.

“Probably not.” Will gives an exaggerated sigh. “My mom says that you’re welcome to stay with us for New Years. What do you think?”

“I’d love to,” Nico says, not even pausing to think about it.

He can practically hear Will smile as he says, “Good. Good. I’ll let her know.”

“Merry Christmas, Will.” Nico stares at his computer screen, absentmindedly scrolling through the log of messages.

“Merry Christmas, Nico.”


End file.
